


The Goal For Your Recovery

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 20:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20088505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Original Prompt: "At the end of the movie, Pitch was dragged underground rather roughly by his Nightmares, correct? What if he was seriously hurt by this? More specifically, what if one of his legs was broken/severely injured in some way, rendering him unable to stand or walk without aid afterwards?(I’m picturing him needing to lean on one of his Nightmares (Onyx maybe?) to move around, and/or going back to using his old staff as seen in this DW comic: http://scans-daily.dreamwidth.org/4125019.html)In the movie, we saw how not having Believers effected the Guardians; they became weak, powerless, and were starting to fall apart. After the events of the movie, Pitch probably has very few Believers left, so he and his powers have dwindled accordingly...[cut for length]"I tried to follow the prompt but I think I went a little be sideways from it. Pitch hasn’t had much of a chance to recover at all, in this fill, and Sandy and North go find him on the Man in the Moon’s orders. However, the Man in the Moon and Pitch have very different ideas about what his recovery is going to look like.





	The Goal For Your Recovery

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr on 8/10/2016.
> 
> Here's the rest of the prompt: "...He is unable to fully heal from his injury until he recovers more of his power, but he is unable to create more Believers because he can’t move around reliably by himself. (His shadow-walking trick would be difficult if he can’t walk. Maybe his stumbles out in the wrong places?)
> 
> So, it probably takes him a bit of time to find a way out of his lair again, and then he needs to rely on physical aids to move around in the world. That’s where the Guardians (and the writer’s creative license) come in.  
Will Pitch manage to hide from them, or do they discover him in his vulnerable state? Who finds him, and how do they react?   
IE: Sandman - Takes pity on Pitch, and forms a Dreamsand cast for him to help him out. Pitch doesn’t want his help, but Sandy is Sandy. Let’s cart around the surly Nightmare King, and maybe give him the opportunity to heal.  
Jack - Thinks Pitch is copycatting his staff and uses his hook to disarm Pitch, just for a bit of fun. Pitch wobbles and has to find something else to lean on or fall. Jack realizes what just happened. Guilt ensues.  
Etc.
> 
> \+ If you follow the individual Guardian discovery route, do one for each of the Guardians? I’d love you forever? <3
> 
> ++ If all the Guardians come across Pitch and his plight together, they decide to help him. Happy Ending? I’m a sucker for them. <3
> 
> +++ Combine both of the above scenarios? The Guardians all come across him individually, but Pitch manages to give each of them the slip before they can do much of anything. They all come together and form a Help Pitch Plan.
> 
> ((And please, please try not to woobie-fy Pitch. He’s a BAMF. He wouldn’t let such a disability keep him down, nor would he be willing to take help without at least some hissing and spitting. ;D ))"

Oh. This was…this was new. Pitch stopped trying to move for a few moments, or, well, for rather longer than a few moments.   
  
There had always been consequences for his battles against the Guardians. He remembered a time when he had been unable to retain a humanlike shape for months. He remembered another time when he had been unable to bear even the slightest touch of sunlight without agony. He remembered still another time when he had been unable to speak, existing only as a silhouette, flat against any nearby surface.  
  
These trials made sense to him. They were the sort of problems that a Boogeyman might have.   
  
This was different.  
  
He hadn’t even been sure that he’d had bones, in the traditional sense, holding him up through all his recent activity. But now, now he was sure, because if it wasn’t shattered bone causing the kind of pain he was in, it would be a pretty puzzle finding out what could mimic the sensation so perfectly.  
  
He recognized it, of course, because humans who experienced pain like this often ended up fearing it.   
  
And so. He didn’t move. He still hurt, but moving would be worse. Moving would probably be worse for reasons other than the pain, too. If he had bones, that meant that they had to heal somehow, didn’t it? And yet this, this! This wasn’t a simple break. He knew that, deep down where he used to be able to re-form himself time and time again from the shadows. This was a shattering. High up, too. Above his knee. He moved one hand carefully, carefully down his side. Had the fall and the panic of the nightmares damaged his pelvis as well?   
  
He couldn’t move carefully enough. His hand started to shake, and that was enough, enough to add too much pressure where it shouldn’t be, and his pain crescendoed sickeningly, until unconsciousness brought it to a sudden halt.  
  


* * *

  
  
“Yes, but I still will not like keeping a secret for so long. You do not know how long it might take—”  
  
Strange, Pitch thought. That sounds like North.   
  
That strange thing, however, seemed insignificant in comparison to the return of his pain, and the fact that he couldn’t see anything. The pain seemed lesser than before, but somehow not as if his condition had improved, but as if he couldn’t pay attention to it at the moment. Pitch wondered if this meant that his body was simply shutting down and heading off towards death. It would make sense, when considered with his current blindness. After all, he had been dragged off and trampled by nightmares. The shattered leg was no doubt only his most obvious injury.   
  
In a confusingly distant way, Pitch found himself worried about dying. He wanted to panic, really, he did. He’d had physical bodies get damaged, even severely damaged, before, but he’d always been able to abandon them before they died, if he couldn’t heal them. He would have abandoned this one, if he could, but since he hadn’t, even by reflex, that had to mean he couldn’t. That for some reason, this most recent battle had left him tied to nothing but a little bit of flesh and bone. If it died now, would there even be enough of him to be him at all?  
  
And why couldn’t he panic?  
  
He felt a lurching sensation and for a moment thought he had regained the missing ability, but it soon vanished. And when it did, he was given the comfort of knowing that his eyes had not actually ceased to function.   
  
Unfortunately, this was paired with the less comforting knowledge that he had been very neatly, though not perfectly, blindfolded.  
  
“What?” He tried to yell, but could only manage a hoarse whisper. Where was he? Why was there light peeking in from outside the fabric? At least he didn’t feel any further pain from the light; perhaps that was one small advantage to being defeated in a physical body. He tried to reach a hand up to undo the blindfold, but something restrained him.   
  
Something soft, and warm, that prickled against his skin. He swore, but wasn’t sure that he managed to get the whole word out before falling asleep.  
  


* * *

  
  
When he awoke next, his whole leg hurt so much less that he could only assume it had been cut off. Upon opening his eyes, he found this not to be so. He also found Sandy and North watching him anxiously from either side of a rather narrow bed, in a cozy room made somewhat unusual by its lack of any windows. He didn’t think it was meant to be a cell, though. He knew what cells were like. People feared those, too.  
  
He let those thoughts be for the moment and instead gave his leg a longer look. It was entirely encased in dreamsand, which Sandy was continually refreshing. So. His leg was literally asleep. He closed his eyes again for a few moments. “All right. What’s going on? You haven’t even tied me up.”  
  
“We do not need to, right now,” North said seriously. “And I think you know that, too.”  
  
Pitch frowned. “That’s a dangerous assumption to make.”  
  
_Quit it,_ Sandy signed. _We don’t need any posturing now._  
  
“Well, are _you_ going to offer an explanation, then?” Pitch asked.  
  
_Only if you want me to lose focus on your leg._  
  
Pitch winced, and North thoughtfully stroked his beard. “I will explain,” North said. “Yesterday, Sandy came to me to tell me he had gotten new command from Man in Moon. But he could not follow these orders on his own, and needed my help. We were to go get you, from wherever you were, and not fight you. I asked Manny to confirm this and he did. And so we did what was asked, and now you are at the Workshop. This is part of why Sandy needed my help. He did not want to take you to Dreamland without knowing your current state.”  
  
“That’s not a full explanation,” Pitch said. “Am I to be a permanent captive, now? Did the Man in the Moon even bother to say?”  
  
Sandy shook his head slowly, before forming a few more symbols that North couldn’t read, and Pitch had trouble with, as well.  
  
“Sandy, you know that those things only give me a headache. They always have. And these…these were part of the Man in the Moon’s explanation?”   
  
Sandy nodded, his expression solemn.   
  
“Right. And you haven’t told the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny yet because…”  
  
“They both suffered much more than I did last Easter,” North said. “We thought it would be better to wait for the whole shape of Manny’s plan before we told them.”  
  
Pitch thought for a moment. “The Man in the Moon wanted me like this. Weak. Physical. But I never got this bad fighting you. If he didn’t want me like this, he could have sent you to stop me while I was just learning how to create the nightmares. Jack would have been ready. My plan would have been obvious. But those early nightmares couldn’t have overpowered me. I need to know why.”  
  
Sandy formed a few more impenetrable symbols, and Pitch sighed. “I still don’t really recognize those. I’ve been knocked on the head too many times to remember back to the dawn of humanity. You’ll have to say it differently if you really want to bother.” Apparently, Sandy didn’t. Pitch turned to North. “You’ve set me up for recovery. I intend to be the Boogeyman again when this is over. To regain the fluidity of my form, and my ability to walk through shadows. A full recovery. Without even a limp in my leg.”  
  
“Pitch, if your form is a real body, now, I do not know if that is possible,” North said. “Why—”  
  
“_Because_ I’m the Boogeyman,” Pitch said, as if it should be obvious. “My form is meant to inspire fear. And even I know that even if a limp or worse could make me more effective, it shouldn’t.”  
  
“That is not what I expected,” North said, leaning back in his chair. “But, yes…you are correct. We will try for a full recovery. What do you think, Sandy?”  
  
Sandy’s answer was a nod despite a very troubled expression, and more of the obscure symbols, followed by a few more common ones that didn’t make any sense. Something about some sort of cause.  
  
Pitch decided to worry about that later, and sleep while his leg was still doing the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Tags from Tumblr:
> 
> #MiM is trying to get Kozmotis back while Pitch is forced to be physical #Pitch is totally unaware that this is a possibility and wouldn't like it if he did


End file.
